


It's A Winchester Life

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, Holidays, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2012-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: A Christmas Missive set in the Winchester Ranch universe.  There's a primer if you haven't read Stars, Strays & Saddle Oil so you can read it as a stand alone.This was supposed to be a one off for P for her birthday, but since it's already a day late so. . . The conclusion may not be out until just after Christmas.  Depends on how much time my family takes up.  Sheesh.  You'd think it was the holidays or something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** If you have not read any of the other stories in the series you need to know the following:  
>   
>  ·Mary died six months after Sam’s birth due to complications from the birth.  
> ·Sam grew up a sad moody child with few friends save for Dean Singer.  
> ·Bobby Singer was a man, with a gift for animals, who helped John with his ranch but was killed by the stray kick of a mare.  
> ·After his father’s death Dean remained on the ranch becoming its foreman in the fullness of time.  
> ·When the boys were in their teens, in an effort to get through to Sam, John rescued a young man named Jeremiah Bennet from a juvenile facility after a bad choice landed him in jail.  
> ·While following Jeremiah’s baseball team, the Winchester’s took a weekend to Raleigh, NC where Jeremiah met Belle who would become his wife and Sam’s “big sister”.  
> ·During his youth, in a rare moment of defiance, Dean went against John’s wishes and joined the rodeo.  
> ·Carol Gooding was John’s housekeeper who helped him raise the boys. After Sam realized that his happiness was dependant on his own honesty about his feelings for Dean and he became a much more decent person, John & Carol were able to be honest about their own feelings and were married.  
> ·Sam was brutally attacked by a homophobic ranch hand and nearly died.  
> 

It had been a stupid fight and Sam regretted every angry word, especially now, knowing that Dean had slept in the living room.

 

Dean had been conspicuously absent when it had been time to decorate, time to shop and now when it was time to wrap and Sam was just a little fed up. They had fought and then characteristically, Sam had stormed off up to the shower and thrown himself in bed in a huff. He had expected Dean to follow along shortly, but wasn’t surprised to find that he had fallen asleep before that had happened. He was surprised to find that Dean hadn’t come at all, probably having fallen asleep in the armchair in front of some movie.

 

Sam rose quietly and pulled on a pair of comfy sweats fully expecting to go down and find Dean for a bit of kiss, (and probably a lot of something else), and make up. What he found was not what he expected. 

 

When he got to the foot of the stairs, everything was wrong. The cottage was not the bright cheery great room that Sam had renovated it into over a year ago, but the dreary, dull closed in little house that they had first moved into. Dean was not asleep in the armchair, nor were any of their shoes by the door and there was a man in a trench coat in the center of the room. 

 

Sam reached for the baseball bat that stood by the front door and was more than a little surprised to find that it wasn’t there. But while all that should have been startling enough, Sam was fixated on the fact that his hand passed right through the door.

 

“What the fuck?” Sam cried, surprising even himself at the note of fear in his voice.

 

“I am Castiel, your guardian angel, and I am here to make your wish come true.”

 

Sam’s eyes rose into his bangs. “My wish . . . my dog’s name is Castiel.”

 

“Imagine how flattered I was.” The man replied stone-faced. “But you have no dog because you wished you were never born. I’m here to show you what the world would be without you.”

 

“You are fucking kidding me.” Sam looked around furtively, half expecting Jer or Dave to pop out of somewhere and let him know the joke was over, but there was the matter of the cottage and the door and he was sure it wasn’t them. Which left only one explanation.

 

“No you are not dreaming.” The man answered before Sam could ask. “I am your guardian angel and you did wish that you weren’t born, so movie or not, this kind of thing does happen and it is happening to you.”

 

And then the whole horrid cadence of their fight came back to Sam and he knew it to be true.

 

They didn’t often fight, they’d come too far together to fight but when they did, it could be vicious and for nothing.

 

“What is up your ass Sam?” Dean growled.

 

“Me?” Sam gasped. “I’m the one who took the list and went to Dallas and dragged through all those stores that you hate and humped all this shit back here. I’m the one who decorated the house. Fuck Dean, I’m the one who had to go get you a live fucking tree because you wanted a real Christmas this year and now you won’t even help wrap.”

 

“You know what it looks like when I wrap stuff.” Dean tried.

 

“Then hold the tape or write the tags. Make some fucking effort to be part of our lives Dean.” Even Sam had trouble believing how angry he was. It was down to principle now and Sam wasn’t backing down. “Don’t you want us to have a Christmas, don’t you want to be part of our holidays?” Sam shook away the frustrated tears. “You always worried that you were making me do things for you and I’d resent you Dean. Well are you fucking trying to make that true?”

 

“Really Sam?” Dean had his blood up now and it was on for sure. The verbal daggers wouldn’t be satisfied without blood. “You’re gonna go all melodramatic on me? You gonna wish we never got married or some stupid shit?”

 

Even in his heated mood, Sam recoiled from that. His eyes narrowed and his teeth ground together. “I’ll do you one better Dean? What if I’d never been here at all? You would all have been happier.” Dean took a half step back before reaching for Sam’s shaking arm willing him not to go where Dean could see he was going. “If I hadn’t been here this whole shit show of my life would have happened to someone else and we’d all have been better off.” 

 

“No Sam.” Dean whispered.

 

All of Sam’s misplaced rage vibrated through him as he looked Dean dead in the eye and spat the words. “You make me wish I’d never been born.”

 

So there it was. Sam had said it and for some fucked up reason, it had come true. Sam looked at the ‘angel’. Trench coat? Really? Holy tax accountant more like. “So we’re going on a journey and then I have to learn some lesson to get my life back? Is that it? Can I just admit that I was a jack ass and get my life back now?”

 

The angel, Castiel, sighed. “You will take the journey. I am merely here as a conduit by which you must learn what so many need to, but so few are given opportunity to.”

 

“Are you going to tell me this is some gift?”

 

“Are you going to accept that?”

 

Sam wasn’t sure if he was going to like this guy or become even more furious. “All right, let’s just get this over with. I have apologies to make.” Sam turned towards the door. “Do we just go or do I have to touch your coat or something?”

 

“The door will be your device.”

 

With his hand on the doorknob, Sam came to his first revelation of the exercise. If he hadn’t been born, his mother must still be alive. He felt a first jolt of happiness at that. “Well at least Dad should be happy.”

 

Obviously Sam had only seen pictures of his mom when she’d been young and happy and full of life and promise. He was hard pressed to find her in the woman who sat in the kitchen of the ranch house. Mary Winchester sat at the large kitchen table not even bothering to try and hide the forty of Vodka. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed Sam that it wasn’t even noon and already she had a third of the bottle gone.

 

“No.” Castiel answered the unasked. “She didn’t open it last night. It will take her all day to get through the whole bottle, but getting started in the morning is particularly difficult for her.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s heartbreaking that Mary died before being able to fulfill her dream to be your mother, but the happiest time of her life was being pregnant with you. She had purpose and felt unconditional love. As a young bride and up till your arrival, she and your father had common ground and a shared goal but when Mary couldn’t have children they found their common ground gone. Mary? Her purpose fell to the bottom of that bottle.”

 

“Dad?”

 

Castiel nodded towards the door, which this time opened to the office at the main barn. John sat, looking haggard and worn and fifteen years older than his years should be. While the barn around them showed no obvious disrepair it somehow didn’t seem in its usual pristine condition either. John’s rough hand ran through his hair as he poured over balance sheets. Clearly there was distress here.

 

“Without a helpmate to help him run the ranch or the household, John is overwhelmed. One of the hands is actually rustling cattle and the feed store is over billing. If he doesn’t discover at least one of these issues soon, John is at risk of losing the ranch his father built for him.”

 

“Oh come on.” Sam chuckled. “My Dad’s so much smarter than that.”

 

“It isn’t about his intelligence. Without anyone to leave it to, he finds himself hard pressed to care.”

 

Sam started to absorb it all, but each disclosure just forced another question. “Wait. If my mother is too drunk to manage the household, where’s Carol?”

 

Again Castiel gestured towards the door. Apparently Sam had to see the situation before the explanation. The moment Sam laid eyes on Carol he felt the sting of tears as the cherished woman he belatedly thought of as his mother stood before him. If John looked old, Carol was a shell of the vibrant woman that Sam knew. She was fifty pounds heavier but somehow gaunt in the face with eyes sunken behind dark circles of constant fatigue. Her shoulders were hunched over making her appear even shorter than she was. They were in an industrial laundry facility and Sam looked on helplessly as she struggled to manhandle the heavy load from one huge machine to the next. Sam’s voice, when it came, was low and broken with gravel. “Why is she here?”

 

“When Brian Gooding died, there was nothing to keep her at the ranch so she had to go and make a living. Most nights when she leaves here she goes to her second job cleaning offices.”

 

“But why? Dad would have hired her.”

 

“To do what? At that time, your mother was running her household with no issues and there was still hope for babies so there was no drink. That only came on in the end when all hope was gone.” 

 

As they had been talking a younger man had come into the room and was talking to Carol. Sam’s attention was drawn back to Carol’s distressed outburst.

 

“But Mr. Ryan, I’ve worked here for twenty four years. Please, just let me stay until my pension comes in.”

 

“I’m sorry Carol. We were trying but your productivity has been dropping off drastically and with all the cutbacks, in this economy . . . we just couldn’t make it work.”

 

Her shoulders drooped even more, if that was possible, as Mr. Ryan walked away.

 

“What’s going to happen to her?” Sam asked sadly, only just stopping himself from reaching for her.

 

“Now you’re confusing me with Dickens. I do not see shadows of the future.” Sam shot a venomous look at the angel. “She will not retire with wealth, but will not survive on cat food either. Her future will be more of the same as her past.”

 

“But why is she alone? What about Belle? Jer?”

 

Those deadpan glances at the next door were really starting to infuriate Sam. Especially now as he was torn between his need to just stay close to Carol and the horrid sick feeling that this was her existence. Again Castiel answered the thoughts gnawing away at Sam, but this time he seemed almost sad.

 

“You can do nothing to change her if you stay.” 

 

Sam looked at the angel but the face betrayed nothing. After only another moment’s hesitation, he turned the knob on the next door.

 

Belle sat in an unadorned cubicle wearing a set of headphones. “I understand sir but you must recognize that the down turn in the economy has effected a great many people who are still making payments on their accounts.” Sam could hear the party on the other end of the line shouting at her, horrible things if he was hearing correctly, but the distressing thing was the thousand-yard stare in Belle’s eyes. His normally vivacious, sparkling Belle appeared mousy and disconnected. She finally had enough of the tirade on the other end and spoke calmly again. “That may be so sir, but the sad truth is if we cannot come to some understanding here today, you will receive a visit from the Sheriff’s Department.” Another volley of suggestions for various orifices and Sam watched her sigh. “Thank you sir, have a nice day.”

 

“Another satisfied customer?” Came a voice from over the wall.

 

“He’ll call back when he cools down.” Belle replied. “They usually do.”

 

“And someone else will pick up the reward for your work again.” Said a lanky blonde who finally stood up to speak over the wall. “Why do you let them do that? If you actually got to post them as your statistics it might get you noticed, might get you a promotion. It would certainly show on your paycheck.”

 

Belle just shrugged her shoulders. “Doesn’t make any difference.” And then quieter so that even her companion didn’t hear. “It’s only me.”

 

“Where are we?” Sam’s voice shook a little. 

 

“Belle works for one of the largest collection agencies in the Southeast.”

 

He knew he didn’t really want to know the answer but that was how this game was played. “Why?”

 

“John Winchester had no reason to follow a baseball team to Raleigh. Belle never left her parent’s home until they were killed in a car accident and she found nothing left for her. The siblings she wasted her youth in care of blamed her for not driving the car and rarely, if ever, speak to her. She works only to maintain life.”

 

Sam’s voice was barely a whisper. “Baby Jer?”

 

The angel sighed; about to explain how there could be no baby Jer when Sam struck out for the door only to open it onto the yard of the Texas State Penitentiary at Huntsville. Jeremiah stood, the evidence of the most recent beating still swollen on his features, apart from the clearly factioned groups all around him. Years of hard time were etched into his previously kind features along with vicious scars Sam didn’t want to know about. The eyes that Sam had so often seen welled with adoration for his baby, his Belle weren’t here. Dead eyes stared through Sam, their lessons learned through hard time, not books.

 

“Tell me.” Sam demanded.

 

“With no reason to find you a kindred spirit, John Winchester had ho reason to save him from the system. One fight led to another, a guard is dead and Jeremiah will never again see outside of these walls.”

 

Sam’s head was swimming. This can’t be for real, he thought. All of these things could not possibly hang on him but even before the angel spoke to answer his unasked question again, he knew it all to be true.

 

“I think you understand now Sam.” The angel spoke quietly and with empathy this time. “Every person’s life is like a stone thrown into a pond. The circles of our influence move out from where we penetrate the world to meet and interact, not only with the circles of the stone thrown closest to us but the circles made by stones thrown far away.”

 

There was only one question left. Sam spoke quietly. “Dean.”

 

“As I said, you understand now Sam. It’s not necessary to go there.”

 

“Take me!” Sam roared. Castiel had to remind himself that Sam was currently ethereal and posed no danger to him. But then how could a phantom vibrate with rage?

 

“It’s unpleasant Sam.” Castiel tried again. “You won’t like it.”

 

Much quieter this time, but no less insistent, Sam spoke again. “Take me.”

 

Castiel sighed, but gestured to the door. Sam didn’t rush towards it, but stepped ahead with purpose. He took a moment again, with his hand on the knob, perhaps reconsidering, Castiel hoped, before pulling the door open.

 

Dean lay on a single bed in a second rate motel room. He was naked to the waist making Sam gasp. His torso was a criss cross of scars and traumas that Sam could only speculate about. He also couldn’t guess when Dean had last had a shower or shave. There was a sizeable collection of empty liquor bottles dotted around the room, the most recent one still in Dean’s hand. 

 

Could a spirit cry, Sam wondered. There was a prickling at his eyes along with the cold stone of despair in his stomach. Dean’s beautiful green eyes were as dead as Jeremiah’s had been. No sparkle, no mischief, no Dean. Castiel didn’t wait for the question this time.

 

“Dean’s father was not killed on the Winchester ranch, but he only drifted through John’s employ and ended up dragging Dean all over Texas. They finally drifted apart over Dean’s ‘lifestyle’. With no education to speak of, Dean joined the rodeo full time and despite the drink, he’s quite good at it.” Castiel paused, knowing that the rest would be the hardest for Sam to hear. “Dean never had a relationship. He drifted through towns, often hiring what he needed until he made that decision in the wrong town.” He paused again, waiting for Sam’s attention and perhaps, Sam noted, deciding whether or not to finish. “He was attacked and badly beaten in one of those towns and has never taken a companion since. He spends all of his time alone or with that bottle and waits, hoping that the next bull will just kill him.”

 

Sam knew he couldn’t be seen and even if he could, this Dean would not know him but he stepped to the edge of the bed. He reached out, almost but not quite, to touch Dean’s cheek. “I’m sorry.” His voice quavered just a bit. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Without turning or otherwise addressing his angel, Sam asked. “How do I go back?” 

 

Castiel almost asked for clarification that Sam was talking to him, but then finally Sam turned. “Have I learned my lesson? Can I just go back now?”

 

“It is not a question that I can answer Sam. Do you understand your importance in this world? Do you see how important you are in these lives?”

 

Sam hesitated. Right now all he could think of was his place in this life, to make this all right for Dean again; to see the sparkle of joy in those eyes, to hear the mischief in his voice. But then he thought of Jer, one of the best friends, greatest men he knew, trapped by his circumstance, his beautiful Belle wasting alone in a nothing job and Baby Jer, their precious life that would never be. He imagined his beloved Carol dying day by day in a miserable solitary existence. His father, void of everything now, even his love for his land. And Mary. The one who should have been saved by his not being there could not be saved from the despair within herself. 

 

“I see it now.” Sam agreed. “I . . . appreciate what you’ve shown me. But I really, really want to go home now.”

 

“Then you know the way Sam.”

 

There it was, the final door and this time Sam rushed towards it.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Okay, so I'm never doing a holiday WIP again. What with RL and the holidays and work and exhaustion and more RL, this took way longer than I had intended. Even as it is, I'm not sure it didn't kind of fall apart at the end. I hope it passes muster and I thank you all for your patience.

  
xoxo  


* * *

Still clad in only his grey flannel pajama pants, no shirt, no shoes, Sam burst through the kitchen door . . . of Belle and Jer’s house. 

 

“Sam?” Belle smiled warily taking in his appearance and apparent distress. 

 

The moment should have been awkward, but he was so overjoyed to see them, Belle so pretty and perfect, her big eyes filled with concern and Jer, morning paper in his hand, one eye raised quizzically in his direction, Sam might not have cared if he stood there stark naked. 

 

“Did you guys have a fight or something?”

 

“No. Well yes, but that’s not why . . . It’s complicated.” He took two steps towards her and just completely covered her in one of his big bear hugs. “I just really needed to see you.”

 

“Okay, Sam you’re kind of freaking me out right now. You’re going to see us in a couple hours.”

 

He took her face in his hands and gave her a couple big kisses. “I’m okay, really. I just had a really bad dream that you weren’t in my life and it shook me.” He smiled weakly. Telling the whole truth wouldn’t exactly make him seem saner; would it. “No baby Jer.”

 

“I dream that dream everyday just before nap time.” Jer rumbled from behind the paper. 

 

“Jeremiah Bennett, you take that back.” Belle shrieked but Sam seized it for the distraction it was and squeezed Jer's big shoulder on his way by. 

 

Sam moved into the living room where the baby was surrounded by what Santa had brought. He dropped down onto his tummy in front of Jeremiah as he always did.

 

“Sa!” Came the delighted squeal of the thirty-month old boy. No one could figure why the toddler could say Dean with little or no problem, John was easy, Carol sometimes coming closer to Carl, but he just couldn’t seem to add the ‘m’ on the end of Sam, or maybe he just didn’t want to.

 

“Yea buddy,” He held out his hand for the touch of the beloved toddler. “Sam’s here.” 

 

The little boy ignored the offered hand and wound his fingers into the waves of Sam’s hair. “Sad Sa?” He asked and then clumsily wiped a tear from Sam’s cheek.

 

“Actually, I know you won’t understand any of this, but Sam’s extra happy to come visit you today. See I can’t tell your mom and dad because they’ll think I’m crazy. . .”

 

“Cazy.” Came the happy, toothy grin.

 

“Yea Baby Boy,” Sam smiled back. “It’s crazy, but a strange man in a rain coat showed me that tiny things can change big things.” The baby tilted his head at Sam’s strange words. “I said you wouldn’t understand.” Sam shook his hair out of the tiny fist. “Well buddy, I’ll spoil you later, but right now I need to find my mom.”

 

Sam considered going back out the kitchen door, but there would be questions or concerns and he just didn’t feel he had the time. Looking around the living room the only door was to the storage closet, but Sam took the chance and . . .

 

. . . Walked into his father’s study.

 

“Sam?”

 

“I know how it looks Dad, but everything’s okay.”

 

“Really? Because it’s 50 degrees out there Sam.”

 

“I know, really I know Dad. I just had a weird night.” Sam tried and apparently the thin excuse was going to work on John too. “Listen Dad, I’m sure this isn’t going to make you feel a lot better about my current state, but I just need to say it to you okay?”

 

The worried frown returned but he answered hesitantly. “O-kay.”

 

Sam sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together, giving himself a focal point to stare at. “Dad, I need you to know how much I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Sam heard his father’s breath that indicated he was fixing to speak so the rest just poured out in a frantic jumble to get it out there. “I mean I get that it was difficult after Mom died and you could have sent me away and I know that I wasn’t easy. A lot of things could have been really different but you kept me here and things are the way they are and I just need you to know that I couldn’t be happier about it.”

 

John’s worried frown had changed into a quizzical peaked eyebrow but he seemed to follow Sam’s meandering point. He took Sam’s clasped fist in his big hands. “I lost your mother Sam, I wasn’t going to give up everything she ever dreamed of.”

 

Sam looked up at his father, both their eyes misty. “Are you ready Dad? Can you tell me about her?”

 

John started. “What? Today?”

 

Sam chuckled. “No, not today, but soon?”

 

“Yea Sam, I can.” They sat in their quiet moment for a few minutes longer and then Sam stood turning to the door. “Sam, you’re sure you’re okay, right?”

 

“Better than okay now Dad.” And Sam turned the knob to the kitchen door.

 

****

 

Sam was assaulted by the smells from his mother’s kitchen, the wood fire, bread rising, turkey roasting, cookies baking and beneath it all, the hint of her lavender perfume. It smelled like home. 

 

Sam had long since come to terms with Carol and her place in his life and they had talked about it at length so he really couldn’t find any words to share right now. Their presence in each other’s space now spoke the volumes that their years of silence never had. He knew though, that he could not move through this moment without somehow marking its importance. He watched her roll out sugar cookies that he knew she was baking for him, (well him and the baby, but mostly for him) and searched for words to tell her when she seemed to sense his presence. She looked up with a smile before a worried frown creased her brow.

 

“Honey?” In three long strides Sam took her in his arms, his head cradled on her soft shoulder. “Bad dream?” He just nodded his head, silently marveling at how she could know. “Was it . . . you know?” She tried gently referring to his attack.

 

“Worse.” He sniffed back a chuckle. “I dreamed I didn’t have you.”

 

“Oh Sam.” She soothed her hand gently through his hair. “You used to dream that all the time.”

 

He did chuckle at that, the truth of it strangely humorous now. “Don’t joke.”

 

“Okay, but really Sam. Running down here in your pjs?”

 

“It was very vivid.” He grinned sheepishly.

 

She reached up affectionately and gave his head another stroke. “Well for better or worse Sam, you’re stuck with me now.”

 

“Yea.” He kissed her cheek. “So much better.”

 

“Now go open your presents.” She gave him a playful shove. “What Dean must be thinking.”

 

“Dean.” And Sam turned for the kitchen door. 

 

****

 

Castiel was a dick!

 

When he was now desperate to get back to Dean, this door didn’t lead straight to his back door, but out on to the back porch and the distance to be covered between the two houses. Despite himself and the anger at the quirky angel, as Sam set out at a dead run to get home, he couldn’t help but hear Jimmy Stewart in his head. “I want to live again.” And his Christmas wishes to main street. “Merry Christmas you wonderful old Building and Loan!”

 

With or without Castiel’s intervention, Sam’s regrets about their fight had grown exponentially as they always did. Sam could probably count the number of their fights on one hand, but they had all ended as this one had, with unnecessarily angry words that left one of them hurt and the other making it up in spades. Sam had known, even as he had stormed off to bed the night before, that this one was his to make up. But now, even if that had only been a possible future for Dean, Sam felt the burden. Dean had spent his whole life trying to make or keep Sam happy but Sam had never considered that he was all that Dean needed to be happy too. But now, even if it had all just been a crazy dream and even if he had been sleep walking between all of his visits, even if he was imagining running across his ranch in his bare feet and sweat pants, he knew that the goal for the rest of his days would be to show Dean just how happy he really was.

 

When he finally reached his own porch, chest heaving from the exertion, he was muttering to himself as he went through the door into, what he hoped was, his home. “So help me Castiel, I’m in no mood for any more of your tricks.”

 

The Shepard raised his big head off his paws and made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a whine as if to ask, “What did I do?”

 

Sam tripped over his own shoes as he dropped to his knees to hug the big mutt. “Sorry buddy,” He soothed as he wrapped his arms around his four-legged companion. “Wrong Castiel.” With a final ear scratch Sam levered himself to his feet. “So where’s Dean at buddy?”

 

Just then Dean burst through the back door, apparently also conversing with the dog. “ I can’t find him anywhere Cass, I guess we’ll find out how good a sniffer you are.”

 

“Dean.” Sam started.

 

“Sam?” A huge grin spread across his face but he recovered his anger quickly when he realized that Sam was in one piece and no distress. “Where the hell have you been?”

 

“Dean.” He tried again.

 

“Don’t you ‘Dean’ me. I get up this morning and you’re nowhere to be found.”

 

“Dean,”

 

“I know we had a fight Sam, but do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

 

“Dean,”

 

“Aren’t we a little beyond the storming out stage?”

 

Instead of trying to interrupt him again, Sam decided to just shut him up. He stepped in, taking his husband’s face in his hands and covered the still complaining mouth with his own stealing, not only the next diatribe, but Dean’s very breath.

 

Sam’s tongue made love to Dean’s in ways that should have been guaranteed to leave him speechless, but Sam hadn’t taken into account the depth of Dean’s worry. “If you think a few of your trouser melting kisses are going to get you out of this. . .” There was fire in his words, but no fuel.

 

“Dean, I so do not want to fight with you.” He took his lover’s face in his hands, his thumbs rubbing gently along Dean’s cheekbones while Sam’s long fingers tickled along the lines of his jaw as he planted a slow, searing kiss on Dean’s mouth. 

 

Dean’s knees went a little like jelly and his voice cracked a bit taking the sting out of his argument. “If you think that this is going to get you out of telling me where you were all night, you’re wrong.”

 

“That’s fine.” Sam smiled. “Is it going to get me in your pants right now?”

 

Dean moaned. “Oh hell yes.”

 

Part of Sam really wanted to just dispense with any pleasantries and throw Dean down but mostly he just remembered the broken and battered Dean of his vision and he knew he needed this to be so much more. He nipped and kissed down Dean’s throat from ear to collar feeling the shivers in his lover all the way down. There were so many things he wanted to say to Dean, but he just felt this wasn’t the time. His hands roamed gently, almost tentatively over the warm skin and taut muscles of Dean’s body as he removed the offensive clothing. Sam lingered at Dean’s only rodeo scar, from one bull he just hadn’t ducked fast enough, and a shudder ran down Sam’s spine.

 

“Why are you shivering?” Dean misinterpreted. “I’m the one who’s naked here.”

 

“Are you really trying to ruin the moment?” Sam smiled. 

 

“Maybe I’m trying to figure out the moment.” Dean smiled back, a bit sadly Sam noted. “I can’t remember the last time we took this long.” Dean reached for the tie on Sam’s sleep pants.

 

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. There was no question that they were still in love, their devotion was unwavering, but their sex life had become a series of quick fucks and blow jobs. Dean was right; Sam couldn’t remember the last time they had made love. “Maybe that’s part of the problem.”

 

Dean stopped. “Is there a problem?”

 

Sam took Dean’s hands, wrapping them around his own waist to rest on his ass. He leaned in to take a bite of Dean’s earlobe. “Not anymore.” Sam lay his head in the crook of Dean’s neck just nuzzling there, drowning in Dean. His long nimble fingers tickled down Dean’s back thrilling through Dean like nothing else to knead the tight muscles and soft flesh of his thighs and his magnificent ass. “I love you Dean. I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone.” Sam kissed him again, long and slow. “I just don’t ever want to lose sight of that.”

 

Suddenly, almost violently, Dean pushed him back to arm’s length. “You don’t think I’ve ever questioned that, do you?” Sam was taken aback and didn’t immediately answer. “Sam, I know how much you love me because it’s almost as much as I love you, but we’re busy and tired and there’s no direct line from how much we love each other to how long it takes you to get me off.”

 

“ But don’t you miss this?”

 

Dean smiled. “Yea, and you’re going to get back to it and we’re going to make a point to make time more often.”

 

“But?”

 

“But promise me you won’t confuse sex and love again.”

 

Sam kissed him again. “All right, but right now I would love to get back to the sex, okay.”

 

Dean took two steps and threw himself up on their bed. “Finally.”

 

Sam dropped his pants and followed Dean up onto the bed, crawling in between those thighs. His kisses trailed up Dean’s tummy and chest to rest on that eminently kissable mouth and reach into the bed stand for the lube before trailing back down. Dean heard the lid of the tube so the thought he was ready for the fingers that reached in to open him up but all of his breath left him in an exclamation of Sam’s name when he swallowed Dean’s cock to the root in the same action. 

 

“Dear God.” Dean sighed. “Where have you been hiding that move?”

 

Sam only chuckled around his prize and kept up the rhythm of his throat and fingers until Dean’s hips were bucking off the bed. 

 

“Sammy.” Dean keened, a sound he would deny later.

 

“You ready? Because I can take some more time if you want.”

 

Dean growled, much more Dean. “Just fuck me already.”

 

Sam smiled as he rose up on his knees and, in one steady action, pushed in until they were flush together. He leaned down over Dean, placing a few of those kisses on his neck and face again with one lingering kiss on his lips. Their eyes met and Sam smiled. Dean flashed one of his best smiles back. “You need to move now.”

 

“You sure?”

 

Another growl “Sam.” 

 

Sam smiled his big smile as he took a slow stroke out. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.” Sam’s pace was slow but strong until Dean began to thrust up to meet him and his hips snapped harder. He reached down taking Dean’s cock in his hand and he stroked with a twist making Dean’s eyes roll back. 

 

“Sammy.” Dean sighed as his orgasm ripped through him. “I love you Baby.”

 

There it was. That simple declaration was enough to push Sam over the edge and he collapsed at Dean’s side. 

 

 

Later that nigh, after a marathon turkey dinner with the whole family and another round of make up sex in the living room, Sam told Dean the events of the previous evening. To his credit, Dean didn’t laugh or call the white coats to take Sam away. 

 

“So, Castiel as an angel in a trench coat?” 

 

“My guardian angel.”

 

Dean nodded. “I have heard of crazier things.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Well I’m going to bed Sam. Come on, I might just have another quickie in me.”

 

Sam smiled and looked over at his Shepard. “Guardian angel.” He muttered.

 

 

Sam did a double take. Can a German Shepard wink.


End file.
